Interference
by Jerrath92
Summary: Dale is simply trying to do what he can to keep the peace, but when one member of the group is just a time bomb waiting to go off, peace is no longer an option. Gore, language, and violence. Please review!
1. Chapter 1: The Barn Aftermath

**I'm hoping that someone else feels as bad for Dale Horvath as I do. There is a time to interfere and a time to stay out of someone's business, and though he may have trouble identifying what the time is, he's just a peace maker. After the mid-season finale, I thought it was time to give him a little bit more credit than any of the characters give him. So your time-line here is directly after "Pretty Much Dead Already". I don't know why I'm bothering saying that I don't own any of these characters, I mean, who would claim that they did? Anyway, they aren't mine. Well, duh…**

A numb ripple of shock passed through Dale's body as he came to a stand-still before the group scattered across the road to the barn. Twice-dead walker carnage raised a foul smell and he had to cover his mouth with his over-shirt. He saw the little girl's body lying a few feet in front of Rick, her face sunken in and mottled gray except for a dark red circular hole dead center on her forehead where Rick had shot her when Shane and the other four shooters could not. Sophia's mother was face down on the ground, sobbing bitterly and creating a small puddle of mud in the dirt with her tears while Daryl kept an arm around her waist as a precaution with his fallen shotgun at his side. Lori and Carl were closest to Dale and Lori cradled her son who had turned his head away to avoid looking at his friend. Hershel had dropped to his knees at the sight of his friends and family being slaughtered by strangers and Maggie had her hands on his shoulders. Behind them Jimmy, Beth, and Patricia were gazing on in horror in stances of complete incomprehension. As for the shooters, T-Dog and Glenn were almost dumbstruck by what they had helped Shane do, but Andrea was squatting with her head down and in her hands since she had tossed her Beretta aside. Shane ran his hand over the back of his neck almost in embarrassment, but Dale could see that his feelings went way beyond guilt—he was mortified.

Rick turned away from the walkers and rounded on Shane with that calm danger in his squinted eyes. "Shane, what have you done?"

One of Shane's shoulders lifted and slumped back down. He cocked his head to one side like he often did when under pressure. His voice came out hoarse and shot. "I—I didn't know. None of us could've known. We had to prove a point-,"

"That's bullshit, man," said Daryl from the ground. He had to raise his voice over the sound of Carol's cries, but it came across strong even though his face had the unhealthy look of going from flushed to pale in about ten seconds. All the adrenaline shooting the walkers had brought on was quashed with the onset of Sophia's appearance. "_You_ wanted to prove a point and _we_ had to help you 'cuz you couldn't handle it on your own. Y'crossed the line, Shane, and in order to save everyone's asses from your stupidity, the rest've us had to do somethin' we ain't proud of."

"That's a downright lie, you bastard," Shane snapped, suddenly getting some of his flare and anger back as he pounced on Daryl's words like a cat to prey. "I asked you if you was with me and you took the gun. You took my side so don't turn this over on me!"

"Y'handed me the gun and I took it 'cuz I thought you was gonna show Hershel that we had 'nough firepower to put the walkers down, not 'cuz I's prepared for massacre."

"Massacre don't suit you, huh, geek-boy? Then what the hell were those ears hanging 'round your neck when you came stumbling back here with blood all down your front? They sure's hell weren't arts and craft projects. You cut ears off of walkers and strung them on a necklace, but you say that massacre doesn't settle well with you, huh?"

"That ain't got nothin' t'do with what happened here," said Daryl angrily, letting go of Carol as he stood up. "Stay the hell out've my business and drop it if y'know what's good for you."

"You wanna bring something? Come on, then!"

Dale reacted at the same time that Rick did and moved in between the two as Daryl went for his hunting knife. Rick gave Shane a shove backwards and Dale put a hand out to keep Daryl back.

"This isn't the time to be fighting, Daryl, just back down," Dale advised.

Daryl gave him a death glare. "Did you just tell me t'back down, ol' man? No, I got 'nough've that shit from my brother and you ain't him, so you git out've my face 'fore I knock you on your ass."

"Get outta my way, Rick, I'll show that sucker who he's talking to!" Shane yelled, trying to get around Rick. T-Dog and Andrea joined the cause to keep him away from Daryl while Dale tried to hold his own with the younger Dixon brother.

"I'm not trying to pick a fight, son, just trying to keep the peace here. We're at a standstill after what just happened and you should consider how Hershel and Carol are feeling right now before you start arguing with Shane. No one's blaming anyone and that's how it should stay."

"Daryl, let it go," added Glenn, finally lowering his shotgun. "We're done here."

"I'm gonna shove your last arrow so far up your ass it'll come out your head and penetrate that poor excuse for a brain you have!"

"Shane, will you just shut the hell up?" Dale hollered. "You've done enough as it is so just _shut—up_! This isn't about you; it's about those who've lost someone and you're not one of them."

Shane's eyes flickered, almost to the point of setting ablaze. "I tell you, what, Dale, you better shut up y'self right now before you put yourself in the hole, and I'm being polite."

"Shane, that's enough," said Lori, standing up with Carl still in her arms.

However, Shane had found another victim to vent out some of his anger on and wasn't about to back down. "One of these days you're going to butt your nose in too far and then you'll wish you wouldda listened to me unless I'm the one who teaches you your place."

"_Shane_!" said Andrea shrilly. "Don't you threaten him; he's just trying to help."

"Yeah, you call that helping? Interfering in everyone's business? He's making tensions rise between everyone, not me."

"You'd best stop talkin' right now or I'll pop you one," Daryl warned.

"Will all of you just _stop_?" Maggie thundered. "We got enough problems without everyone arguing and bitching about how unfair your lives are. The best thing you can do now is go back to your trailer and wait until my dad decides what we're going to do about this."

Dale interpreted Maggie's words exactly how Shane did, but that wasn't at all assuring.

"What do you mean until your dad decides?" asked Shane. "He's seen how dangerous those things are! They didn't recognize you for who you are; Sophia didn't even recognize her own mom. They're just monsters now and there ain't no way you can defend them after what happened here. There's nothing to discuss; if you had continued to feed and hide walkers in there, you wouldda made a mistake eventually and gotten someone else killed but I showed you what you were doing was wrong. I ain't looking for thanks on bent knee, but you're not sending us nowhere."

"That's not up to you," said Maggie coldly. "This is our land and after what you just did, I think you should consider packing right now and I mean_ you_, Sonny-Jim."

"Oh, so I'm singled out, am I? Gonna turn me away and let everyone else stay, is that it?" asked Shane, practically fuming.

"You're the only one who caused a problem!"

"Shane, shut up and listen to me, will you?" Rick shouted, grabbing Shane by the front of his shirt. "Stop this right now. Come back to the trailer so that we can talk about this, please."

There might have been some force of nature at work to make Shane shut his big mouth and finally put his pistol down, but he relented and allowed Rick to escort him away. Dale breathed an inward sigh of relief. After his confrontation with Shane in the woods, he felt for quite a while—perhaps ten whole seconds—that the ex-officer was going to take the guns by force and leave his body to rot or be consumed by wandering walkers. The fact that he had stormed back to the barn in a full rage with the guns and opened fire on Hershel's walkers, or family, or whatever the hell they were was enough to make Dale break out in cold sweat.

He thought that Shane was dangerous before, but this was beyond the point of insanity. He was uncontrollable, unpredictable, and overpowering. Who could possibly match his strength, brutality, and incomparable will to survive? Rick certainly couldn't compete against his best friend and while T-Dog was husky, he didn't have the technique Shane had. Perhaps Daryl could take Shane on, but Dale had his doubts. When Daryl had first found out that Merle had been left in Atlanta, he had nearly taken Rick out until Shane interfered, which gave rise to the fact that as a team, Rick and Shane were devastating, but alone, Daryl could probably hold his own. If the need arose, Daryl was the man who Dale would bank his money on (though he had none).

Daryl tried to get Carol to come with them back to the RV, but she was deaf to his protests as she crawled to where Sophia had fallen and stroked her forehead, staring beseechingly at her daughter as blood ran over her fingers.

"C'mon, Carol, let's go, there ain't nothin' you can do for her now," said Daryl quietly, but Carol refused to move. When he put his hand on her shoulder, Carol gave him a very stormy look that made him back off immediately.

"If it had been Merle, you would want a few last moments with him. Now leave me the hell alone with my daughter!"

"Okay, okay, I'm goin'…"

Together, Dale, Andrea, Daryl, and T-Dog trudged back towards the RV while Glenn accompanied Maggie and Hershel to the house. Daryl kept glancing over his shoulder as if to reassure himself that Carol was still there in front of the barn and she hadn't wandered off, though to do what Dale couldn't guess. Dale gave Andrea a nudge with his elbow and raised his eyebrows pointedly so that she purposely fell behind.

As Daryl and T-Dog continued on, Dale nodded appreciatively towards Andrea and lowered his voice. "Thank you for backing me up."

"Shane was out of line," Andrea agreed, though she didn't sound like she was willingly siding with Dale.

"I told you that he was dangerous, didn't I? You have to be careful around him-,"

Andrea held up her hand with a scowl on her face and eyes closed in resignation. "Stop, Dale, stop right there. We've been through this time and again, but I'm going to say it one more time and I'm begging you to listen to _me_ this time because if you do it again, you're going to be sorry. I—am—not—yours. I am a grown woman living in the apocalypse against my will. You forced this on me and I'm stuck trying to survive so just let me do whatever the hell I want. Leave me alone, forget about me, don't worry about me, and if it will help, don't even talk to me. I can look after myself and there are other people here to watch my back if I ever need it watched besides you. If you spent half as much time watching over someone who could use protection like Lori or Carl instead of me, Sophia might still be alive."

Dale felt a twinge in his stomach. Was she actually blaming him for Sophia's death? "I don't believe this; you're putting what happened to her on my shoulders? I couldn't have saved her any more than you could have!"

"Maybe, but now we'll never know, will we?" said Andrea savagely. "Will you be happy if everyone starts dropping like bowling pins around us but I'm the only one left standing?"

"No, that's just absurd. Listen to yourself, Andrea! You're _defending_ Shane! He's not worth it. You want proof of how unstable he is?" said Dale desperately. "Why do you think he was so hesitant to speak at Otis's funeral? Why do you think he looked so guilty? He knew the real reason why Otis died and he was lying through his teeth about what happened."

"No, I didn't notice because I don't go looking for lies in people's faces. I have to hope that the people I'm surviving with are actually decent and that's why I don't have a fight to pick with anyone except you because you still think that I'm a helpless and witless child."

"I've seen people like Shane, Andrea, you have to believe me. You learn to read lies, read _people_ when you grow up with one in your family and I did. I _know_ that Shane had something to do with Otis's death. They must have gotten into a tight spot and Shane knew they weren't going to make it unless someone created the distraction needed for the other to get away. Otis couldn't have just lain down and sacrificed himself; Shane had to have put him down for the walkers to feed on so that he could get away. He had guilt on his face and in his body language when Patricia asked him to speak for Otis. He is the reason that Otis is dead and I'm willing to drop down to my knees and beg you to stay away from him. I don't care how you interact with the others, but you have to stop hanging around him. Please, Andrea, please just do this for me and I promise you that I'll leave you alone. I'll let you do whatever the hell you want, but I'm not about to lose you to a monster just as vicious as the walkers that got Amy."

Andrea's eyes turned stormy, the complete opposite of Shane's, but the same anger was present. She poked her index finger into Dale's chest so hard that her nail ripped off a bit of his skin under his shirt. "I can do whatever the hell I want with or without your consent, Dale Horvath. Now fuck off."

Leaving Dale alone on the road underneath the relentless and merciless heat of the high summer sun though feeling as if winter had set in early, she stormed off. Dale had no desire to return to the RV. He looked back up the road at Carol who was holding Sophia's entire body in her lap and rocking her. The girl was gone for good and there was no false hope that she could possibly come back to weigh Carol down.

But Dale, he had lost Andrea for good and she was still walking around, regarding him with disgust, and plotting against him. He had tried too hard to hold on to the one person he loved and now he had nothing, no one.

Diddly-shit.


	2. Chapter 2: A Blanket of Fog

An unseasonal mist had generated cool and refreshing air as night set in, but everyone drew in close to the RV, for the fog was so thick that they couldn't even see the lights in the house just a few yards away. Glenn had still not returned from the house, but Dale was more concerned about the fact that Carol hadn't even come in once it became clear that the fog was not going to let up. Rick and Lori were keeping Shane under careful surveillance in one of the tents with Carl and every once in a while Dale would hear Shane give an indignant snort or something of the sort. T-Dog was on watch duty atop the RV, and though the job seemed ludicrous with the mist hanging around, Rick had insisted that someone keep watch just as before. Andrea had retreated to the other tent which she had all to herself at the moment since Daryl was pacing back and forth with his crossbow hanging loosely from his hand. The fog had now been present for twenty minutes and the light was fading fast, but Carol still did not come back. Seeing Daryl retrace his steps over and over and wear a path down in the dirt in a fashion reminiscent of Amy brought a lump to Dale's throat.

It seemed like months since he had last spoken to her, last given her words of advice. She had ambled back and forth just like Daryl was doing now as she impatiently waited for Andrea's return from the city and he had told her that worrying would not make things any better. Wasn't it the very next day after that when the walkers had attacked the camp? And after his speech about forgetting time, he certainly was living the phrase up, for time had slipped away and he could not pinpoint the exact moment when he had last seen Amy alive. She had made the teasing, yet loving comment "You are so weird", before she slipped off to the RV to use the restroom. After she announced that they were short on toilet paper, the walker had appeared from nowhere and bitten a huge chunk of flesh out of her arm. Her ear-splitting screams still haunted him in his every waking moment as well as his nightmares. Like Andrea, he had not thought about the fact that Amy was bitten, but rather he had thought how desperately he needed to get to her before the walker could deal a mortal blow. But he never did get to her. He had been too preoccupied with the other walkers in the ambush and had set about to using his rifle in defense with Jacqui at his side. Somewhere in the back of his mind he faintly remembered hearing Amy scream again but in the heat of the battle, he had completely forgotten about her. Only when Rick and the others arrived and the last walker had been taken down did he see Amy draw her last breath and Andrea begin to moan in agony for her dead sister.

He had failed both of them in the sense that the promise he had made to himself to protect them as a father would protect his daughters had been broken. He could not save Amy and by save he meant that giving her time to say a proper goodbye would have been far less painful than the way she had died. He felt disgusted with himself for letting the girl die even though he knew that there was nothing he could have done.

But at the CDC when Andrea had stated that she would be staying behind with Jenner and Jacqui, Dale could not live with the guilt of failing her again. He had been unable to protect her sister and by letting Andrea kill herself he was as good as throwing her into a mob of ravenous walkers. He had made the decision to stay so that at least his mind would be at rest and he would never have to ponder the possibility of what could have happened if he had saved Andrea as well. It was not his intention to get her to change her mind; he only wanted to stay with her, but she had opted to leave and now she blamed him for it. He didn't _force_ her to walk away from death; she chose to. Both of their consciences would have been at rest, no matter if they were ready to die or not. The fact remained that now, surviving the apocalypse was hardly any better than dying if it meant he had to live it knowing that Andrea hated him for something he had no control over.

She would not so lightly be accusing him of ruining her attempt at suicide if she knew that he awoke almost every night sitting up in bed and drenched in cold sweat after reliving Amy's screams and Andrea's words of giving up. He dreamed of the girls more than his wife because while his partner had died peacefully and left him plenty of memories, the girls left him with living nightmares and worries.

Looking back, there was nothing Dale could have done to alter the situations. He convinced himself that he would not have left Andrea to take her own life in the CDC. It was her own decision to leave and she had no one to blame but herself for Dale's actions. It was his natural instinct to want to protect, to help in any possible way because it was something he had developed in living out those horrible years of his childhood. He was a guardian and just because Andrea had a problem with that didn't mean that he could change it.

But he still had lost her, perhaps not to walkers, perhaps not to an explosion, but she wanted nothing more to do with him and he knew there was no way of ever convincing her that he never meant to hurt her. He felt the sting, the ache in his heart as if the part that cared for Andrea had been ripped out and burnt to join the parts that cared for Amy and his wife. He might have already lost her and when the day came, if it came, where Andrea died, he would lose her all over again.

Daryl jostled Dale from his thoughts as he came to a standstill mid-step and loaded his crossbow. "Screw this, man; I'm goin' out there to get her b'fore somethin' happens."  
>"You can't see and you'll only get lost or worse," Dale reasoned.<p>

"Then I'll call to her."

"If there are walkers in the area, they'll come straight to the sound of your voice, Daryl. That's why Rick told us to keep as quiet as possible until the mist rolls over."

"Yeah, and when's that gonna happen?" Daryl demanded. "She's not in a stable state of mind and she could hurt herself if I don't go get her."

"She was there twenty minutes ago when the fog came in, Daryl; I can almost guarantee that she's still there."

"Y'know what? You can guarantee shit with this fog, old man. I'm goin'."

Dale felt a surge of anger and blocked Daryl's way. Hell, after confronting Shane who admittedly scared the shit out of him at times, standing up to Daryl was like facing a child because his rage was empty whereas Shane's had been unstable. He didn't move for his rifle, but he took on a firm and somewhat edgy tone.

"Now you look here, I'm not going to take any more of this '_old man_' crap from you, Daryl Dixon. I may have put up with it when your brother was around, but now he isn't and I'm going to demand some respect around here because like it or not, we're all we've got. That means I have you and I'm not going to be respecting someone who calls me an old man which means that if that same person who calls me an old man were in trouble, I might just be too annoyed to watch his ass. I'm only trying to reason with you and you have no right being short with me, do you hear?"

Daryl looked taken aback and actually stepped one pace to the rear. "Damn, you sound just like Merle."

"That's not a compliment," said Dale, pleased that Daryl had actually heeded his advice—or perhaps threat—and stepped down. Daryl was halfway through putting his crossbow down on the grass when they heard it: a clear, unmistakable gunshot. In the mist the sounds were deceiving because no one could tell how close or far away it was, but it was definitely there.

Daryl's face, still pale from his arrow accident lost all of its color. "Carol!" he called, pushing Dale aside as he started towards the direction of the barn. He snatched up a bat resting against the RV and took off, swallowed by the mist in seconds. Rick and Shane emerged from the tent and Rick called out to Daryl to return, but no such thing happened. Andrea had her reloaded Beretta in hand and took off after Daryl with her face set in determination. Dale opened his mouth to caution her, but caught himself just in time. Still, he had that nagging feeling that something worse than an argument would happen if he didn't interfere.

"Andrea wait!" he said loudly, grabbing a bludgeoning weapon.

As expected, Andrea kept walking, but Dale jogged to catch up with her and just managed to get close enough behind her to tap her shoulder with the axe handle. He was not surprised when she spun around in slight panic and he held the axe out to her. "You might need this; it's hard to see."

With a grim look on her face, Andrea hefted the axe onto her shoulder and continued running after Daryl. Dale hesitated, wondering if it was possible for him to get into trouble any deeper than he already was. The fog had sent his instincts and morals into the limbo. He knew that even backup needed backup when visibility was limited and if Daryl had Andrea, she would need Dale.

He raced after Andrea, following her blonde ponytail through the shadows but she was fit and young, neither of which he was and in a few moments he had lost her. Listening hard, he heard her footfalls from what seemed like not very far ahead and forced himself to remain calm as horrid thoughts began to fill his overly crowded head.

_Think, don't panic. You're already halfway to the barn, just keep walking straight and if you get lost you can always call for help. Just stay calm and—_

"Daryl, no!"

_Oh, well screw that._

Dale made sure that his rifle was ready for action and broke into a sprint—or his rendition of a sprint which was actually a very embarrassing hobble. His lungs were not what they used to be and with the added humidity in the air, his breathing passages were in hell. His heart pumped cold blood through his frozen limbs. The mist was an omen, for it had brought every cold, empty, and lonely feeling down in the midst of one of the hottest summers ever. He trusted his ears rather than his head and followed the sound of Andrea and Daryl bellowing. At long last he broke out of solitude and stumbled directly into Andrea who brought the axe around to swing at him, but Daryl caught her arm and stopped her as Dale hit the ground hard on his rear end.

"Dale, you stupid bastard, that's twice I've nearly killed you, why the hell do you keep following me?"

"Instinct," said Dale dismissively, dusting himself off. "Where's Carol? Is she alright?"

"She's right here," said Daryl, motioning at the woman who was frozen in place cradling her daughter. She had no more tears to spare, having spent them all on sleepless nights wondering what became of her baby. She was done, alone, and at wit's end.

"Why'd you scream?" Dale asked Andrea.

"Daryl pulled the crossbow on me, that's why," said Andrea crossly. "He thought I was a walker."

"Honest mistake with this damn fog messin' up my vision," said Daryl, swinging his bat aimlessly. Dale watched the metallic gray wrappings on the bat as it swung like a pendulum, back and forth in a hypnotizing rhythm that sounded strangely like a heartbeat in his ears. His eyes were on the bat, but his peripheral vision caught movement emerging from the mist and he pulled the rifle trigger, firing at waist height as a walker moved in on Daryl. Dropping his crossbow, Daryl closed his hands around his bat and swung as two more walkers advanced on him and Andrea who took up a fighting stance with her axe. Dale put his back to them and stepped inward so that the three formed a triangular back-to-back formation, slowly making their way towards the barn.

"Get to Carol," said Dale, turning his rifle around to smash the butt of it into another walker's face where Andrea finished it off. He felt rather than heard Daryl move away from him and turn towards Carol.

"Carol, move! What're y'waitin' for? _Run, you stupid woman!_"

Dale never saw it, but he didn't need to because Daryl's cries told him everything he needed to know. Carol was gone by the time he glanced over his shoulder but Daryl was only just starting forward to follow her and the walker that had taken her. Dale closed his hand around Daryl's wrist and at the same time Andrea took the bat from his loose grip. Daryl fought back for perhaps a moment or two before he collapsed in a rush of tears and agony, screaming for the world to hear. The sound was nearly unbearable, like some poor trapped animal howling in pain because it knew that it was going to die, only Daryl's vocal chords were capable of producing something much worse.

Whether by coincidence or luck, not one walker approached them after Carol had been taken, which allowed Dale to kneel beside Daryl and put a comforting hand on his shoulder while Andrea called for help and stood guard. He expected Daryl to shake his hand off and tell him to mind his own damn business, but the young man didn't have the strength to even lift his head. He lay there, clenching a fistful of dirt in his fingers as if he were trying to squeeze the life out of something. As Dale opened his mouth to whisper a word of comfort, Daryl looked up, making direct eye contact and Dale saw—his own reflection.

Daryl was suffering exactly as Dale was; they both had lost someone to walkers and were on their way to losing the only other person they had left. Daryl was still hoping and waiting like a fool for Merle, his brother whom everyone assumed but no one had the guts to confirm was dead. Dale was watching Andrea slip away down the road Shane had chosen for her. Their loved ones were just out of reach and they would never be able to grab hold again.


	3. Chapter 3: Something Loose Inside

Rick and Shane arrived in short order, guided by Andrea's calls and both of them had a crowbar in hand, looking thoroughly ready for action. They pieced two and two together when they saw Daryl sprawled on the ground and Dale patting his back, but still Rick asked, "Who fired the shot?"

"We don't know," said Andrea. "Carol didn't have a gun."

"She snapped, didn't she?" said Shane quietly, glancing over at the spot where Sophia had fallen.

At the sound of his voice Daryl's head jerked up and his body went rigid for a moment. Dale could actually feel the heat coming off of his body as his blood boiled under his skin in a rage well beyond rationality. Carol's death had been the last straw for him as he came to terms with the fact that the chances of Merle's survival were less than one percent. The human mind was a fragile thing, especially to those who had been damaged as Daryl had and if Dale didn't know any better, he would have sworn that he saw a madness in Daryl's eyes which clearly expressed insanity, the type from which there was no return. Something inside of Daryl had gone awry, for the look on his face was no longer that of a man who had bottled up childish anger, but a veritable cornucopia of fury.

Shane, who was listening to Rick express some sort of strategy was not expecting any kind of reaction from Daryl and was therefore not looking at him which gave Daryl the advantage. Daryl pushed himself off of the ground with his knuckles, going into leapfrog position as he closed his hand around his bat. He pivoted on his ankle, bent almost double as he charged at Shane with the bat held high. Dale felt as if he should have shouted a warning, but the resentment and anger he had towards Shane held him back. He only stood there and watched as the bat came down hard on Shane's shoulder blade. Daryl didn't get in another swing for Rick tackled him rugby style while Andrea went to Shane's aid. Locked in a furious tussle, Daryl and Rick both were fighting to gain the upper hand, but Daryl's anger matched Rick's technique. Dale couldn't make out any distinguishable words as Daryl dropped a line of what might have been swearwords. While Rick's energy seemed to drain as the seconds dragged on, Daryl's strength increased but even so, there was blood dribbling out of his nose and it wasn't from a punch.

When it became clear that Shane was only winded and not seriously hurt, Andrea hurried over to the two combatants and without hesitation, plunged her hands in to pry Daryl away. Rick pinned his wrists down as Andrea sat on his legs, but Daryl refused to quit. His body trembled under the strain to continue his fighting and now he took up a storm of cursing at Shane in a voice that hardly sounded human.

"_You_ snapped, Shane! You opened that damn barn door! She wouldda never known, never had t'see Sophia like that, but you ruined what little bit've hope she still had, y'son've a bitch! Fuck you! Go to hell you bastard!"

"Daryl, that's enough!" Andrea yelled, struggling to keep his legs down.

Shane, who had composed himself and finally understood what had happened, went for his pistol as his eyebrows dipped down and a purely evil look claimed his face. Rick and Andrea had their backs to him and didn't see…

Dale pointed his rifle upward and pulled the trigger. Almost immediately following the gun report, he aimed it at Shane and ordered, "Drop it, Shane, drop it now."

Shane's lips split into a menacing sneer. "Go on, old man. Let's see if you got the guts to do it."

"I'm not looking to hurt anyone, Shane, I'm just trying to bring this back onto a reasonable level."

"Oh, we're way past that-,"

"Now it's your turn to shut the hell up!" Dale hollered, tightening his grip on his rifle. "Daryl's distraught and he needs someone to blame just like you did! You were pissed off about Hershel's rules jeopardizing the safety of everyone here and you took it out by shooting all the walkers in the barn. You needed compensation for what's happening around you and that's how people snap. It's a domino effect; you needed to assert your power so you assumed control, Carol let herself be taken because she needed a way out from her pain, and now Daryl wants your blood because the way he sees it, you're the only person he can blame anything on. Rationalizing pain doesn't seem like an option, but it's the best chance we have if we plan on surviving. Carol didn't have that frame of mind and she's gone now, so if you and Daryl can't think differently from her, you're not going to make it either. You may already have ruined our chance of staying on this farm which means that we'll be on the road, living and surviving together and if you can't learn to cooperate and forgive, you're going to put us all shit out of luck."

Shane looked murderous, but Rick and Daryl were listening intently while Andrea considered Dale with a look of puzzlement.

"I'm not a fighter; I'm a peacemaker but somehow even that has led to fighting lately. I force myself to believe in the good of humanity, or what's left of it because that's the only hope I have left. I don't care what the hell anyone does in their spare time or if there's arguing here or there, but what I do care about is staying _alive_ and being _at peace_. I care about everyone here and all I want is for you all to continue living for a valid reason. If you don't have a reason to live then find one because I'm not letting anyone else quit like Jacqui and Carol. It's not enough to just survive because you can but because you want to and I sure as hell want to, but not if everyone turns on each other. I don't care if you don't like me or just plain hate my guts, but no one is going to threaten anyone else. That's how people get killed. If you have a choice to kill a survivor or be killed right along with them, I would hope that for the sake of humanity you'd choose the latter." His eyes never left Shane as he spoke the words.

"What's he talking about, Shane?" asked Rick, giving Shane a searching look.

Dale saw Shane's brain go to work, contemplating whether or not he should come clean or at least partially clean and tell Rick how he had threatened Dale. But he didn't. Instead he gave Dale a look that clearly said, _You're gonna pay for this later, old man_.

"He's talking about Otis," said Shane without looking at Rick. "He means that if any of us end up in a situation like me and Otis were in that we'd choose to die together rather than let one of us sacrifice ourselves while the other ones escapes. Well, don't you worry about that, Dale. If it's you'n me being ambushed by walkers, I'll make sure to die right along with you."

"I think we should all go back to the RV and tents and wait for Hershel's judgment," Rick advised, letting go of Daryl's wrists. Andrea rolled off of his ankles and held out her hand to him which he took, wobbling and wiping blood and tears from his face. Rick ushered Shane on ahead to speak privately with him and they had their gazes on the ground to see where they were going.

The mist had let up slightly, but it was still thick enough to make them all feel borderline claustrophobic. Dale offered up his own hand to Daryl who held onto Dale's arm for support.

"Come on, up you get, son," said Dale kindly.

"Don't call me son," Daryl snapped. "I ain't your boy."

"Apologies, it's just a habit. All the same, let's go."

They gathered up their weapons and then with Dale and Andrea on either side of him, Daryl began to stumble back towards their camp. His bloodshot eyes were cast down and he gave a small sniff now and then, but otherwise he seemed almost normal. When they had reached the shelter of the trees and RV, they found that Rick and Shane had already told the others about Carol. As if they didn't already have enough to grieve over, the occupants of the camp now retreated to the most lonesome and despairing pits of sorrow. Dale let Andrea go to comfort Lori while he escorted Daryl back to his, T-Dog, and Andrea's tent to lay down. Daryl collapsed on his cot, turning over to face the wall.

"If you need anything, just holler," said Dale, backing out of the tent.

"I ain't a kid, I can take care've m'self in case y'haven't noticed," said Daryl coldly.

"I can see that you aren't a kid, Daryl, but you're human and all humans need help once in a while, physically or emotionally. You don't have to be a stranger, you know. We'll look out for you, but we wouldn't mind some gratitude now and again."

"You speak for everyone?" asked Daryl, looking over his shoulder at Dale with meaning in his puffy eyes. "Even Shane?"

"I don't think anyone can speak for Shane," said Dale wearily.

"Well, I tell you what, I'll hand out gratitude by the bucket load and even go into some family history when you tell me what that lil' speech 'bout no sacrificin' and the exchange've looks 'tween the two of you was. Sound good?"

Dale saw that he was trapped, but that didn't mean he had to give in. "If I told anyone what my argument with Shane is it won't do us any good."

"I thought not gettin' along was gonna get us killed?"

Dale took his leave, feeling the emotions of the day finally settling in around him. His acute paranoia about Shane being nothing but trouble was mounting to a very high degree. He sank into his armchair atop the RV for his watch, but his mind was lingering over the time when Andrea would relieve him. When he went to sleep that night, what was to stop Shane from creeping into the RV and slitting his throat or else making it look like he had died of natural causes? Shane had marked him for a slow, painful death and what's more, Dale couldn't tell anyone about it without turning them all against Shane and starting a blood feud. If he wanted to keep the peace, he'd have to hold his tongue, whether that meant dying or living for his words. He rested his forehead against his closed knuckles and tried to blot the thoughts out of his mind.

No one brought him his share of food that night simply because no one felt like eating, including himself. Glenn wandered back through the fog about an hour before Dale's watch was over and explained that Hershel had locked himself in his room. Maggie and Patricia had tried reasoning with him through the door, but he wouldn't answer. They could hear him moving around on the other side, but he refused to acknowledge them in any way. The way Glenn had put it, the survivors would most likely have to move out in the morning. When T-Dog told Glenn about Carol, the young man had to rush over to the bushes where he was violently sick.

Rick and Lori retreated to their tent with Carl and Shane sat by the fire, gazing off into space with a faraway look that made him seem almost peaceful. Rather than try to share Daryl's tent or invade Rick and Lori's privacy, Shane snuck inside the trailer to sleep on the pullout bed. Dale swore under his breath. He wouldn't chance going inside this night which meant that he wouldn't sleep this night either. Perhaps that was what Shane wanted; to deprive him of sleep so that his senses were not as alert.

"Go on to bed now, Dale, it's my watch," said Andrea as she climbed the ladder with her Beretta tucked into the front of her jeans.

"I'm not tired, I'll keep watching," Dale lied, clamping his mouth shut to stifle a yawn.

"Don't be stupid."

"I'm not being stupid, I'm being stubborn and I pride myself in thinking that's one of the few things I'm good at so why don't you just go on back to bed and leave me the hell alone?" Dale snapped. A moment later he realized what had just come out of his mouth and he was about to apologize when Andrea blanched and then shrugged.

"Alright, fine," she said heatedly, beginning to climb back down the ladder.

"Andrea, no, wait, I didn't mean it like that," said Dale hastily. "I'm sorry. You're right, I am tired and I would go to sleep I just—I'm not sure if I can."

"The more you try to stay awake, the easier it'll be, so just go do it already," said Andrea, considering him.

"It's not that," said Dale almost desperately. Oh, how he wanted to tell her, to confide in her about what he feared, but if he did it would only confirm her belief that he was still interfering in her life. She would think that he was only making up the story of Shane's threat to try and get her to stay away from him. He couldn't stand another row, and definitely not on the two touchiest subjects on his mind.

"Then what is it?" asked Andrea, lowering her voice.

Dale thought he saw genuine concern in her eyes but knew he could only have imagined it because she made it very clear that she cared nothing for him.

"I can't tell you," he said lamely.

"So you can pry into my business, but I can't ask you yours?"

"I don't want to argue this too. Just—just drop it; it's not worth more fighting. Besides, it'll only make you angrier with me and I've had just about all I can take of that."

"Dale, I can see it in your face; you _want _ to tell me. Where did you go this morning? What was that look between you and Shane? I'm not going snitch on you."

Dale sat down next to Andrea on the roof and rested his rifle across his lap. "If I tell you, I'm going to ask that you don't interrupt or judge me further—at least to my face." Andrea nodded and taking a deep exhale out his nose, Dale plunged into it. "I sensed that Shane was going to do something drastic with the guns so I tried to hide them this morning in the swamp. He tracked me and told me to give the guns back, but I had a gut feeling that something was going to happen if I did. I pulled my rifle on him and he came right up to the barrel, daring me to fire. I could see it in his eyes that he would have taken the guns by force if I hadn't handed them over. I guess he wouldn't have been as angry if I hadn't interfered in the first place, but I lost my temper with him. He as good as told me that he sacrificed Otis and I have no doubt that he would have done the same thing to me if he had been in a position to. Since I tried to protect everyone, Shane turned on me and now I can safely say that I can't think straight because I know he's planning something for me. I dug myself a grave by trying to help and now I'm screwed for sure. I don't know how he's going to try and put me out of it, but I can only hope that you won't side with him when he does."

Andrea gaped at him, watching almost beseechingly for a sign of a joke on his wrinkled face. There was none. "Dale, that's—that's just about the craziest thing I've ever heard."

"He's been deteriorating since Otis died, Andrea, anyone with a set of eyes can see it. Today something snapped in him, just like Carol, but Shane's dangerous with the screws loose in his brain. He's going to do something that will jeopardize our survival because he thrives on power. I'm not safe here anymore. I'm the one he hates more than anyone. Hell, if Merle Dixon came walking into camp tomorrow, Shane would welcome him if it meant kicking me out. I don't think Daryl's safe either after the swing he took today. If Rick hadn't stepped in, you can be damn sure that Daryl would have kept going. He loved Carol because she could relate to him and understood him and he sees it as Shane's fault that she's dead. Daryl and I are going to have to leave unless Hershel kicks him off the land. But even if Hershel does, Shane won't go. He'll stay for Rick and Lori and for Carl. He has an obsession with Lori because she is pregnant with his child, Rick is his best friend, and he loves Carl like his own son, but the rest of us are expendable to him. He doesn't really care about any of us and he will leave you for shit. Given his way, he would get rid of Daryl and me and then send the rest of you packing."

"Stop, Dale-,"

"No, you're going to listen to me. You can't tell me that you'd still defend him after everything you've seen him do today? If I have to prove it to you, I will, but I'm not trying to pry into your life. I'm trying to protect this family and if you take his side, you're as good as killing all of us."

Dale stood up, bones feeling like splintery wood as he began to step down the ladder. "Maybe the best thing for this camp is for me to leave. I'm sure if would make you and Shane a hell of a lot happier." With that he trekked over to Andrea's tent, opened the flap, and lay down on the floor at T-Dog and Daryl's feet.


	4. Chapter 4: Odd Man Out

Dale never thought he'd find anything more uncomfortable than his cousin's aero mattress in Tallahassee, but the ground in T-Dog and Daryl's tent messed with his neck and back all night until he felt permanently deflated as roots stuck into him. Perhaps half the reason was because he had felt so uneasy, not to mention scared shitless that Shane might come barging into the tent in the middle of the night, but it was one of the worst nights he had ever had. The tendons in his neck had seized up so that he could hardly turn his head without experiencing pain. As he sat up and rubbed at the sore spot, Daryl awoke beside him in the early gray morning and through slightly swollen and squinted eyes, he looked at Dale with confusion.

"Unless we're playin' musical tents, this ain't your place t'sleep. What're you doin' in here?"

"Shane took my bed," said Dale, covering up a yawn with his free hand. "It's a one-time thing, so don't worry. I'm on my way out now."

"I's just confused, is all. I didn't mean that y'ain't welcome in here," said Daryl a bit uncomfortably. He was obviously trying to make up for his behavior the day before and repay Dale's kindness, though it was more painful to watch him attempt the feat.

"No worries, but I'm still going to leave now and start on breakfast before we hit the road."

"Whatchoo talkin' about hit the road?" asked T-Dog, snorting himself awake with his eyes still closed.

"Hershel isn't going to let us stay, not after what happened yesterday," Dale reasoned. "It's going to be either all of us or just Shane and I have a strong feeling that there's going to be a fight either way; Shane won't go without one."

"Yeah, well I'll make sure he gets goin' if it's just him Hershel wants to send away," said Daryl, swinging his legs off of the cot.

"I appreciate the enthusiasm, but I don't think you should get any more involved than you are now."

"Can't get much more involved than I am now, can I? Don't worry 'bout it, Dale, not everyone's gonna side with that bastard. I'd say that Rick will try'n make peace, but he ain't gonna stand for no more've Shane's outbursts."

"You mean like the one when he beat Ed's face in?" asked Dale. "I didn't actually see it happen, but Andrea did."

"Yeah, she's the only one still alive who saw it," said Daryl delicately. "She and Carol both told us that Shane went off his rocker with some sorta anger that came outta nowhere. Same thing happened yesterday, didn't it? Someone hit that delicate spot in his brain and he snapped. He sees himself as some sorta leader but I tell you what, I ain't takin' no shit from him. I don't follow no one's lead; I do whatever I damn well please and nothin'd please me more than t'see that bastard run outta here." He turned to T-Dog expectantly, but T-Dog was looking a little hesitant.

"I dunno, man. While I ain't saying that I'm siding with Shane, I ain't one to get in the middle of fights that don't concern me neither and the way I see it, if I pick sides, I'm gonna end up at the bottom of the food chain."

"I beg to differ there," said Dale. "On Shane's list, Daryl and me and possibly Hershel are at the bottom."

"Well, I may be one tough-ass bastard, but I don't have no skills like the rest've y'all have. You weren't there when I swung a punch at your bro, Daryl, but I thought I could take him. He pissed me off and I tried to pop him one 'cuz I figured that we were 'bout the same height so we probably fought in the same style, but that crazy-ass mother put me down in about seven seconds. I ain't a fighter like Rick and Shane and you, Daryl, so I don't wanna be putting myself out there where I'm just gonna get pummeled again. I don't want another Merle incident."

"You wouldn't have to worry about that, I can guarantee it," said Dale reassuringly. "You haven't put up a fight against him at all and if things turn ugly, someone will stick up for you. Don't forget that Lori, Andrea, and Glenn are still in Shane's favor which means that you are as well. I can't speak for Lori or Andrea, but I know that Glenn will do whatever he can to ensure that either we all stay safely here or else Hershel and his family are not threatened—by us or walkers."

"Why does Shane hate you so much?" asked T-Dog.

Dale tried to ignore the fact that Daryl who had been halfway through stretching was now in a frozen statue position in order to listen to what Dale had to say. Telling Andrea hadn't been as difficult because she was half the reason why Shane threatened him in the first place, but Dale didn't see the need to tell Daryl and T-Dog as much as Andrea knew or indeed the exact truth. He was actually quite talented at lying if he really tried.

"Shane is—from lack of a better word—angry with me because of how much I read in to other people's lives in camp. I mean, it's not exactly my fault; I sit on top of the RV all day, so I just naturally see things and sometimes I share what I see, other times I offer advice or warnings and when I offered some advice to Shane, he got a bit short with me. So we're not on good terms at all."

"Naw, see, I believed you right up to that last sentence," said Daryl, shaking his head. "You gotta word your sentences better if y'want people to buy your lies, Dale. If you and Shane were just on bad terms, he'd be one t'argue with you or throw a hissy fit, but he's threatened you and I seen the way his eyes burn when he looks atcha. He's well beyond pissed and he's bidin' his time."

Okay, well maybe he was wrong about being good at lying. "Well, that's just something I'll have to put up with until a better solution can be found," said Dale, shrugging one shoulder.

Daryl laughed a very dry and unused sound that didn't fit him at all. "So you're willin' t'risk that life you're so desperately tryin' to keep just so that you don't cause any more trouble with the rest've us? You're prepared to let Shane shootcha down in cold blood rather than save your own ass? That's one've the stupidest things I've ever heard, and livin' with Merle, I've heard my share of stupid things. C'mon, Dale, you're smart; you gotta have somethin' better'n that."

"Well, I don't," said Dale miserably. "I don't really plan ahead; I just sort of go with the here and now situations."

"Yeah, and how's that workin' out for ya?" asked Daryl. "Look, if y'want some help, all y'gotta do is ask. I ain't gonna be your best friend, but I'll back you up. But first I gotta know if you're willin' t'go all the way and not back down, no matter how Shane threatens you, otherwise it's just a waste've my time'n energy."

Struck by the loyalty Daryl was willing to give him—Daryl, who owed Dale nothing and who had never particularly liked him anyway—Dale gave the tiniest inclination of his head, but made the expression on his face as grateful as he could.

%%%

Things started to go downhill after breakfast and only continued to spiral in the same fashion like a whirlpool being sucked into a giant drain. It was tense eating a breakfast of cold leftovers as Shane appeared from the RV looking very rested but slightly delirious and cast a very disconcerting look at Dale which went unnoticed by almost everyone else except Daryl (T-Dog had stepped away to relieve himself). Dale didn't enjoy his food nearly as much as his empty stomach wanted him to and he hastened to climb the ladder and take his watch so that he was out of Shane's line of fire. His own cowardice ate at his soul and he felt sickened that despite his strong will, he had succumbed to fearing nothing but a playground bully on steroids (and he had no doubt that at some point in his life Shane _had_ taken steroids). He couldn't focus on his duty because due to his overexcited imagination, he noticed that Shane seemed to be glancing in his direction more often than usual. But a small consolation was that, since he had nothing better to do, Daryl stuck around the campfire, always making sure that someone else was around so that Dale would not be left alone with Shane. Dale was grateful, but after four hours of this overwrought behavior, he knew that there was no way this could continue.

It was final; someone had to leave…and the decision came right along with Maggie and Patricia who visited the camp an hour before dusk. Maggie's eyes were bloodshot, as were Patricia's, but Maggie also had sorrow and anger on her fair face whereas Patricia was all grief. Crossing her arms defensively across her chest, the young woman addressed Rick, but spoke loud enough for everyone to hear her.

"My dad still won't come out of his room, but he slipped a note under the door this morning telling me what he thought the best course of action would be after what happened yesterday."

"Your old man got a kick in the ass with truth," said Shane darkly. "We were just helpin'."

"You shut up," said Daryl.

"He was all for letting you stay until the barn incident," Maggie continued as if there had been no interruption. It wasn't just the fact that you killed our family-,"

"They were already dead-,"

"He realized that they were dangerous, but the arrogant, stuck-up, devil-may-care way you took them down was the last straw for him," said Maggie, glaring straight ahead at Shane. "You fired the first shot and the others followed you because they were protecting us. You opened the door, goaded the people inside into coming out, and shot them like they were rabid dogs just to show us all how accurate you are with that gun of yours. Well, congratulations, Shane, you've won the prize for asshole of the year and your prize is to leave this property right now. Please remove yourself."

Dale's heart rose a little higher. Hershel had seen that it was all Shane's doing, that he was the rotten apple, and he was allowing the others to stay for the time being. But his hopes came crashing down when he remembered that this was _Shane_ they were talking about.

"No, there has to be some other way," Rick pleaded, coming to Shane's defense as expected.

"Rick, you tried reasoning with him, screaming your vocal chords out to get him to stop and put his gun down, but he just spat in your face and did what he damn well felt like doing," said Maggie, flaring up. "You aren't being asked to leave, so if I were you I would keep my mouth shut because as I recall, _you're_ the one who was pleading with my dad to stay so that your wife doesn't have her baby on the road. Don't ruin this for yourself or anyone else."

"For once, just shut up, Rick," said Dale quietly, though immediately he wished he hadn't said anything at all because Shane heard him almost as if he had been listening for him and he rested his hand against his leg where he kept his knife stored in an easy-access sheath. Behind Shane, Dale saw Daryl take a cautious step forward.

"Yeah, you would take up sides against me, wouldn't you, old man?"

"I'm just trying to do what I can for the rest of us, Shane," said Dale in a voice that was much stronger than he actually felt. "I can't help it if you brought this on yourself, but I can try and make sure that the rest of us secure a place here."

"Brought this on myself, did I?" asked Shane, advancing. "Right, well I've had just 'bout all I can take from you, pal."

Maybe Andrea sensed danger, or maybe she just knew Shane well enough to guess what his next move would be, but as she stepped in front of Shane to block his way and put her hand on his chest, his own hand rose as if it had a mind of its own and struck her across the face. Dale reacted before he remembered his promise to himself to stay out of Andrea's affairs. He had only felt this angry once in life and that was when his own father had hit his mother when Dale was only six years old. Even as a child, he had wanted to seize the knife his mother had been using to slice up potatoes and stab his father with it, but he had controlled his anger. Now, however, he was not a helpless child. He may be an old bastard, but he was a man—a man who was not going to stand idly by while some inglorious son of a bitch struck the woman he cared for.

He put his hand on Andrea's shoulder and pushed her aside so that he and Shane were face to face. His rifle was in hand as always and he raised it high, ramming the butt into Shane's nose who was so shocked by Dale's speed and indeed the fact that he had reacted at all as opposed to his usual standby of sit back and watch that he fell backwards and hit the ground hard as blood gushed out of both nostrils and streamed into his mouth.

"You keep your fucking hands to yourself!' Dale spat at him.

"Stay back, Dale," Daryl warned, steering him back as Shane made ready to leap to his feet.

"Now, Shane, I think you'd best stay down," said Rick, standing over his best friend. "You're not in your right mind."

"Yes, he is, and that's why he's too dangerous to stay on my land. That's why I want him off of my property right now," said Hershel, emerging from the screen door with an old but fully loaded revolver in his hand.


	5. Chapter 5: To Be Wronged

Dale wouldn't have been surprised if steam had begun to curl off of Shane's newly shaved head. It took a moment for everything to sink in as they all took note of the weapon in Hershel's hand, but as the elderly man stopped between Maggie and Patricia, the group took a simultaneous step back except for Shane who was still on his back from the hit Dale had given. Hershel's dark, intimidating eyes settled on Shane and his lower lip trembled.

"I'm not going to raise my voice here. I am asking you to leave my property, Shane. Please pack your things. I don't want to resort to violence. Go peacefully."

"Hershel, please, you can't-," Rick began, but Lori grabbed his forearm and gave him a look of warning.

"You'd be better off not telling me what I can or can't do on my land, Rick. Your privilege to stay here is hanging by a very thin thread right now and you should be grateful that I'm not asking you to leave as well. I will not tolerate his unstable condition threatening my family's safety. If you know what's good for you, you will keep your mouth shut."

"Unstable condition?" Shane repeated, coming to one knee and looking like he would very much like to take Hershel's handgun and shoot him with it. "Look here, you old bastard, if it weren't for me, you wouldn'ta been able to save Carl. I'm the reason everyone in my group is still alive and if there's anyone who deserves to stay, it's me. I'm just tryin' to eliminate all threats, human or not." At these words he gave Dale a very nasty look. "Y'can't kick me out like that; it's not human and you, of all people, should know how desperate everyone is to keep in touch with that part of life. The way I see it, if you get ridda me, everyone dies."

"Shane, just do as he says," said Lori quietly. Shane, however, pointed a thick finger at her with the order, "You shut up!"

"Shane, I promise, we'll find a way to fix this, but you have to do as he says," implored Rick. "Go now before something else happens that you won't be able to take back."

"You'd side against me?" Shane snarled and Dale read the underlying loss in his voice. He was cornered with no way out except to fight, but that would get him nowhere and make his send off a whole lot worse. "I see how it is; after I saved you wife and boy, after I brought survivors together, after I risked my ass to bring Carl supplies, you side with this son of a bitch so that y'all can sit here comfortably while I'm out fending for myself."

He stood up, looking utterly deranged with blood flowing freely down his chin and onto his shirt, though he didn't seem to care. There was a vein throbbing in his neck.

"You wanted to leave before, Shane," said Andrea with her hand on her cheek where Shane had struck her. Despite Dale's frantic motions to stand down, she approached Shane. "We'll worry about you, but not as much we would worry if all of us were out there. You know how to protect yourself and you've got a strong will, so we know you'll be fine. Maybe once things settle down a little you can come back. Just go, please, before someone gets hurt."

"Yeah, someone's gonna get hurt, alright, and it ain't gonne be me," said Shane and Dale saw that his fist was shaking so much that it caused his entire arm to move. From behind him Daryl moved in to most likely take the knife from Shane's leg brace, and as Shane whirled around to confront Daryl, Andrea reached for the knife. This time Shane didn't hold back and he kicked Andrea's shin before shoving her backwards with such ferocity that a long spittle of saliva flew out of his mouth.

"Just you try that again, you bitch!"

Dale cocked his rifle and held it at the ready. "Touch her again, and I'll blow a hole the size of a golf ball through your head," he said dangerously. "I shit you not, Shane, you'd better leave right now."

"Dale, put it down," said Glenn, looking anxious enough to want to get in between the two, but frightened at the prospect of stepping in the way of the bullet.

"Put it down?" Dale thundered. "So he can hit Andrea again? So he can take my rifle and shoot me instead? No, I won't be putting this down until he's out of sight. I've given him time and leniency, but now he's asking for it.!"

"Dale, you're gonna get y'self hurt," Daryl warned.

"Shane, _now_," Lori begged.

For a moment it looked like Shane was actually going to give in and accept his fate, but at the last moment, when Daryl tried to get around him to come and stand beside Dale, Shane elbowed him hard in the face so that he stumbled backwards into T-Dog. Dale's second of hesitation when he watched Daryl fall was all it took and it cost him. He saw Shane's arm come out of nowhere and beat the rifle away and at the same time the other arm slammed into the side of Dale's head. With an odd ringing in his ears and stars twinkling before his eyes, Dale fell sideways and hit the dirt, landing painfully on his hip. He looked up just in time to see Shane's foot come down and kick him hard in his upper back. Next Shane's fist pounded into his nose, his jaw, his eye…

The blows stopped and through the blood running over into his eyes he saw Daryl dragging Shane away while striking him repeatedly over the head with is bare fist. Nearby T-Dog and Glenn were trying to keep Rick from going to Shane's aid while Lori and Carl bent over Andrea. Hershel, Maggie, and Patricia hadn't moved at all, but they were gazing on in horror at Shane. Sitting up with his head swimming, Dale raised his voice, even though it pained him to do so.

"If my point hasn't already been proven, then I think you all have a serious problem."

"Glenn, put him in the back of the pickup truck and drive him to the main road," said Hershel. "I don't trust him to leave on his own and besides, I don't think he can stand up on his own after what Daryl did to him."

"In his condition he'd die in a day," said Lori. "We'll keep a close eye on him and then send him off as soon as he's able to stand and hold his position, but you can't expect him to leave when he's almost out cold."

"You people are asking for it in asking me to let him stay just so that he can buy more time to plan something else," said Hershel in that expressionless and yet calm manner of his.

"If you let him recuperate, he'll think up some plan of revenge, Lori," Dale reasoned. "He has no excuse left, so don't you try and make one for him. At this point I think he'd harm anyone who seemed threatening to him. I mean, you saw—you _saw_ what he did to Andrea, didn't you?"

"That was my fault for adding tension," said Andrea, rubbing her shin and still holding a hand to her cheek which, Dale could see, was bleeding from how hard Shane had hit her.

"Andrea, no, don't you do that," said Daryl, standing guard over Shane who stirred feebly. "You're only embarrassin' y'self by tryin' to defend this fucker. He wouldda stabbed you if he'd gotten to his knife and you know it. Didn't matter who it was, he wouldda used the knife on 'em, whether it's an old man, a kid, or a chick he banged. He's done, no longer a part've this group, and you'd best accept that right now."

"What if I wanted to go with him?" Andrea demanded, slapping Lori's hands away as she stood up. "What if I chose to leave and make sure that he survived?"

"Then you'd be a stupid bitch," said Daryl simply. "Y'think that if y'chose to go with 'im that he'd treat you diff'rently than he just did now? Don't the words 'abuse' and 'rape' mean anythin' t'you? Just three minutes ago you was askin' him to leave and then he hit you and now y'wanna go with him? What the hell is the matter with you?"

Andrea shrugged and Dale could see that she was actually in shock. A small part of the suicidal Andrea from the CDC had come back at the onset of Shane's anger towards her. "I don't know, Daryl. I've been trying to figure that out ever since Amy died."

In the end Hershel allowed Shane to stay through the night with the promise from Rick that Shane would be gone at first light. He let them off with warning that they all would have to leave if anything else happened to upset the balance. Knowing that Hershel could very well be on the border of delirious depression, Dale vouched to put a stop to Shane if he posed any more of a threat. Rick and Glenn carried Shane back to one of the tents and left him inside with T-Dog standing guard outside the door flap. Discussion led to argument and so no one was particularly in the mood to talk to one another, preferring to migrate to their favorite pastime locations. Glenn had gone walking around the house with Maggie and the Grimes family were ambling up and down the road while talking in hushed voices, which left Dale, Daryl, and Andrea to occupy the camp.

Daryl set about to fashioning himself some new arrows and while he worked Dale paid him a visit. Dale's nose had been stuffed with toilet paper to stem the flow of blood and it looked like he had two white and red icicles hanging out of his nostrils. "Hey," he began as Daryl whittled away on a branch to form an arrow's length.

"S'up…" said Daryl without looking up.

"That was quick thinking on your part, when you stepped in to stop Shane."

"Yeah, well, don't get sentimental, I's only doin' it 'cuz he was gonna beatcha t'death and I didn't want that on my conscience."

Dale went slightly rigid. Without knowing it, Daryl had just touched on a subject that was very near to Dale's heart. That was the whole reason Shane had become so angry with him in the first place; Dale had tried to save Andrea and she was mad at him because she didn't want his blood on her hands either, so he had tried to protect her and in doing so he had ruined his friendship with Shane, if there ever was one. It took long enough for him to realize exactly why Andrea was so upset; it was because while he thought he'd been acting in the best interest of the group to protect them all, he was bringing Shane that much closer to self destruction.

"Thanks, Daryl," he said quickly and then set off to the boundary fence where Andrea had been sitting as the sun's dying glow set her silhouette on fire. She no doubtedly heard him approaching since he didn't trouble to keep the noise down as he stumbled towards her. When she faced him, Dale saw that Lori had bullied her into putting several band-aides on to cover her cut. She rolled her eyes as she saw who her company was and started to slide off of the fence, but Dale caught her by the arm and held her in place.

"No, Andrea, just stay there, I won't be long."

"If you've come to gloat, Dale, I already feel shitty enough as it is. You were right and I was an ass, are you happy? I had sex with a time bomb and I regret it, so just leave me alone now."

"That's not what I came to talk to you about," said Dale a little indignantly, though feeling slightly hurt that she had talked about her affair with Shane so bluntly.

"Then spit out whatever it is you want to say because all I want to do now is go to bed."

Dale set his rifle against the fence post and climbed over the planks so that he was standing in front of her. "Andrea, I told you that I've learned to read people because it's how I grew up. My childhood was spent watching my parents argue while I was hiding under the safety of the living room couch. I learned to observe people, not just when they were lying, but when they were telling the truth, and I always wanted to know the reason why. My childhood was hell because my only comfort was my mother who could never willingly show me any affection in front of my dad. I never wanted to see anyone suffer like I did and that's why I was so willing to pick you and Amy up on the side of the road. I wanted to show you both kindness as a way to make up for the kindness that I never received. I thought that by expressing care for you, it would compensate for the way I had been wronged by my dad. When she died, I took it upon myself to protect you-,"

"We've touched on this before," said Andrea with an edge to her voice. "I'm sick of hearing your excuses for being an interfering asshole, Dale."

"No, you sit down and listen to me!" Dale shouted, though he kept his arms at his side. He would show his force by his words, not his actions. "For once, Andrea, _listen_ to me, damn it, don't just hear what I'm saying. Look at me—_look—at—me!_" His voice was commanding and impressive enough that Andrea complied, scrunching her shoulders up almost as if she were trying to protect herself from him. "I see now that what I've been doing is wrong and I am _sorry_. All I wanted was to keep you safe and in doing that I pushed you farther away and put everyone in danger. The more I tried to show you kindness, the more you tried to sever ties with me. Due to my curse of being so observational, I read it in yours and Shane's face the day you went to that suburban housing development; I knew what you two had done and I snapped. I was the one to threaten Shane and tell him to leave because I thought that he'd ruin you, so I'm to blame for his anger, for Carol, for everything. My curse cost me everything I care about. In trying to show you compassion, I became my father; I hurt you and wronged you by not letting you do what you clearly wanted so desperately."

Andrea's mouth opened just barely as if she wanted to say something, but now that Dale was pouring out his heart and soul, he wasn't about to let her interrupt.

"Andrea, I am so sorry for everything I've done. I'm sorry it's taken me this long to realize what I did to you in denying you freedom at the CDC, in taking your gun away, in shielding you from everything. I'm not begging for forgiveness and I'm not telling you to accept what I've done, just as long as you understand why I did it and why I'll continue watching out for you in any way I can, but from a distance." He went out on a limb in reaching for her hands, but she didn't pull them away like how he expected. Her fingertips were cold and his own warm, gnarled hands squeezed hers gently. He held her gaze with his dark chocolate brown eyes and her sapphire ones didn't even blink. "I love you, Andrea, and you can't expect me to change that. You can't make someone change who they are and who I am is someone who only wants to be your friend. I only wish to be there for you, that's all I ever wanted so if you can find it in your heart to forgive me someday for what I've done, for my sins, I'll die a happy man—or if I'm already dead, my soul will be at peace. That's all."

She was silent and motionless and the collaboration of stillness made Dale uneasy until he saw a tear that had been clinging to her eyelash plummet and fall onto their conjoined hands.

"Dale…" she began, "take those tissues out of your nose, you look ridiculous."

Hastily yanking out the bloody but dry wads between his knuckles, Dale cast them aside and was in the process of drawing his hand away, but Andrea took one of hers and placed it over his.

"I didn't make things easy on you, but like Shane did with the walkers in the barn and Daryl did with Shane, I blamed you for Amy and the CDC because you were the only one who could really understand what I was going through and the only one who wouldn't let me grieve in the way I wanted. Dale, I'm the one who should be sorry and I am. You don't have to wait anymore because I forgive you now." Now there were tears flowing freely from both eyes. "I forgive you and I'm sorry."

Dale touched her cheek with his free hand and nodded. There was nothing left to say.


	6. Chapter 6: With a Vengeance

Glenn took over T-Dog's watch as night settled in and Dale and Andrea returned to the campfire. Lori had sent to eat dinner with Daryl in the pickup truck while she consoled with Rick who seemed to have finally cracked under pressure. The former officer was running his fingers repeatedly through his hair as sweat dripped off the tip of his nose. Shane's actions had been hardest on his best friend who had determinedly ignored the signs. Dale took a knee in front of Rick and exchanged looks with Lori who nodded encouragingly. Clearly she was hoping to get some backup.

"Rick, you can't blame yourself for everything; all this guilt on your shoulders will make you explode if you hold onto it much longer."

"Dale, I'm not a child and I don't need a pep talk about how deranged Shane's become," Rick snapped, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth. "I _know_, okay? I've known ever since I came back to camp after Atlanta, but I forced myself to believe that the apocalypse wouldn't affect him in such a negative way. I wanted to give him a chance."

"Not to sound derogatory, but the fact that you ignored what was happening right in front of you probably didn't help him at all. I saw him changing from the moment you came back, Rick. He was handling things just fine when he thought you were dead, but when you came back he started to deteriorate when he realized that people didn't actually _need_ him anymore. He told us that he was always secondhand to you and that he just wanted people to look to him for answers. He couldn't have been happier when you came back alive, but I could see that dread in his eyes when he came to terms with the situation. Now that you were back, he knew that being alive would only hurt you and he didn't want to live knowing that something might happen to you. The day before we all packed up for the CDC when you and him were out sweeping the area, he put you in his sights and he held his gun on you for a good half minute. I was standing right behind him and I could see it his face that he truly wanted to kill you so that you wouldn't have to suffer in this world being the way it is now. Some part of him, however, held back, the human part. See, the survivor told him to shoot you down, but the _Shane_ part, the one that has always kept him from spilling over into insanity forced him to out his gun down."

Lori's mouth dropped open in horror and Rick gave him a look of disbelief.

"He nearly beat Ed to death, he almost unloaded his pump action on Jenner, he sacrificed Otis, he threatened me, he unlocked the barn, and he struck Andrea. It's just one thing after another that's pulling him further away from being human. I can't say if there's anything left in him that's actually Shane Walsh, but there's not enough. He can't stay here because no one, not even you, is safe. I don't think he'd even hold back on Lori or Carl. In his head what he's doing is right, but to the rest of us it's just insane. I need you understand this, Rick, because if you continue to fight us, you're only going to get massacre. Shane's gone and this—this _thing_ left in his body is not your friend. We all loved Shane, but he's not coming back and we have to move on."

Rick held Lori's hand and she rested her head on his shoulder, rubbing his back comfortingly. With his other hand Rick subconsciously touched his Colt Python. "Where'd you learn to talk to people like that, Dale?" he asked in a hoarse whisper.

Dale gave a small shrug. "I guess the graver the situation, the better my English gets, but it's not intentional. I'm just trying to get my point across."

Rick gave the tiniest inclination of his head and then pointed with his eyes at Andrea who was sitting atop the RV. "Everything alright with you two?"

"It is now."

As the fire turned to dying embers in the pit, Rick and Lori retired to their tent and Carl joined them shortly. Glenn had gone into the house with Maggie after explaining to Dale that he was going to try and apologize to Hershel. Since Daryl, T-Dog, and Andrea's tent had been taken over by Shane who was still out cold, none of them had a place to sleep. Daryl offered to take the first watch on Shane while Dale would stand guard on the RV. He offered up the two beds inside to T-Dog and Andrea who accepted them gladly. Despite the fact that the last threat on the survivors would be leaving at dawn, Dale still felt an uneasy twist in his stomach like the one he got every time he saw a white-coated doctor approaching him in the waiting room with more bad news about his wife's tests. The storm wasn't over; it was only growing larger.

%%%

T-Dog had relieved him halfway through the night and Glenn had come to take over for Daryl's watch, so the two of them collapsed inside the RV, Dale on his own bed and Daryl on the floor for some well-earned sleep to soothe their aching bodies. They both awoke to Lori shouting and Rick swearing and Dale hurried outside, jamming his hat onto his head as he went. Andrea and Glenn were trying to revive T-Dog who was unconscious on the ground in front of the tent. The door flap was slashed, though what Shane had used to cut it was unclear since they had made sure to disarm him before they put him on one of the cots.

"It's my fault," Glenn wailed, tapping T-Dog's cheek with his hand. "I fell asleep on watch, otherwise I would have seen Shane and raised the alarm."

"Well, he's gone now and there ain't nothin' we can do but wait," said Daryl, checking their weapon supply. "Argh, I don't b'lieve it—no, on second thought I do, but it don't mean I'm any less pissed off. He took his shotgun, a pistol, and a knife."

"That's probably all he could carry in his condition, otherwise he would have taken everything," said Dale knowledgeably, feeling rather sick to his stomach.

"Shit," Daryl cursed. "Y'just know that son've a bitch is gonna be bringin' some vengeance back here once he recovers. He'll be out for blood which means that we're all 'bout as far up Shit Creek as we can get. I dunno 'bout y'all, but I ain't lookin' t'get shot at by no psychotic bastard, so I'm all up for hearin' a good plan right 'bout now."

"Well, if he took a shotgun and a pistol, his shooting range won't be that far if-if that's his aim," said Rick. "He'd have to get in close if he wanted to do anything."

"Oh, well that's comfortin'," said Daryl sardonically. "If he really wants to kill someone, he's gonna do it and the closer in he gets, the worse. We gotta be on our game, people, 'cuz I ain't dyin' for nobody, so y'all better watch your asses. I'mma kill that fucker if he gets anywhere near this camp, don't nobody doubt that. I ain't gonna let up just 'cuz he's y'all's friend either. I will kill 'im, see'f I don't."

"If you see him you need to be rational-," Rick began, but Daryl came within a foot of his face with that angered look he had become famous for.

"Shut your face, Rick. Bein' rational ain't an option if the opposition's Shane. Y'think _he's_ gonna be rational when it comes to us? Naw, he ain't gonna give a damn who he shoots and he ain't gonna be nice 'bout it. I ain't gonna wait for him to shoot at me 'til I start firin'. I'm puttin' that bastard down first chance I get and if you wanna keep your wife and boy safe, you'll do the same thing. The time's gone when I letchoo point your shiny Colt at me and assert your power. I ain't takin' no lead here, I'm just tellin' y'all what common sense is. Common sense will keep us alive, rationality'll get us all killed. So you gonna be with us or y'gonna keep your head stuck up y'ass? Time's a'wastin', pal." He took a step back from Rick and pointed to the weapon box. "Arm up, people, everyone gets a gun and a knife. Glenn, go tell the others what happened."

"Maybe we shouldn't," said Andrea. "Hershel might flip his lid."

"She's got a point," said Lori. "Hershel told us to take Shane in the pickup, but we asked for him to stay and now he's gone. He told us that if anything else happened that we'd have to leave. We should just wait."

"After all that racket y'all made, y'think he's not gonna suspect somethin'?" Daryl scoffed. "C'mon now, he ain't stupid; he's gonna come out here in a few minutes and ask where Shane is, ask us why we all got our guns out and what're y'gonna say then?"

"We're not waging war here, Daryl," said Dale pointedly. "It's just Shane-,"

"Exactly, _it's just Shane_. That's my point! 'F it were anyone else, I wouldn't be this riled, but the fact that it _is_ Shane out there means that we all gotta be on our guard. Shane's an army by himself and he waged war on us the minute Rick accused him've bein' out've control. It's us versus Shane; it's come to that and after all that bullshit y'fed us 'bout how y'hate Shane, you're gonna defend him?"

Dale regarded Daryl angrily. "I'm not _defending_ him, Daryl, I am simply against the idea of gunning down a delirious man like he's a walker."

"He's just as dangerous, if not more," Daryl argued. "Y'said it y'self that he's off his rocker, Dale, owe up t'what y'say and mean it! He don't give a shit 'bout us, so why should we give a shit 'bout what condition he's in? He's a threat and no longer a part've this group, ain't that right? Well if that's the case, all've us best start treatin' 'im like a threat, which includes you."

Seeing that he was going to get nowhere with Daryl, Dale gave in. "Okay, alright, fine."

Daryl snorted, shaking his head at Dale. "Y'know, y'aint the only one who can read faces, Dale. I see it; y'don't want t'shoot him. Well yesterday y'weren't so 'gainst the idea've puttin' a bullet in his head, now were you? Naw, when he hit Andrea, you turned Rambo and you was gonna let 'im have it. I had to stop you, remember? Just think've how angry y'felt and that should take care've any doubts y'still got."

T-Dog sat up, wincing as he touched a finger to the spot on his head where Shane had conked him. "Shane hit me," he said groggily.

"No shit, Sherlock," said Daryl, handing him a Charter Arms Pug. "Alright, people, stay close to the RV and don't go nowhere. Dale, get up there and start lookin' for the bastard."

%%%

Antsy wasn't quite the word Dale was looking for to describe how he felt. He couldn't sit still as he drummed his heels on top of the RV while sitting in his lounge chair. To anyone who didn't know him, it might have looked like he couldn't hold his water anymore, but in reality he was just on the verge of a nervous breakdown. He had sensed that something like this would happen, but that didn't make it any easier to deal with. He had thought that making up with Andrea would solve the strange feelings inside of him, but of course, he'd been wrong. Shane was out there, feeling betrayed and ready to get some satisfactory revenge. And it was Dale's fault. The apocalypse had brought out the worst in him as well as Shane so that, in a sense, he wasn't any better than his opponent. The fact that the others were prepared to kill Shane sent a guilty chill down Dale's spine. He had brought this on them, not Shane.

_God forgive me_.

As he reached for his water canteen he saw something out past the tall grass stumbling in their direction and stood up, knocking his chair over. He placed the binoculars to his eyes and zoomed in on the figure. It was a walker and one that had been dead a very long time by the looks of it. Then he saw another walker break out of the tree line…and another…and another…

"Oh, _shi-it_. We have walkers!" he called down to Rick and Lori who were cleaning their knives. "There's a big group of them coming in from the east!"

Daryl came out of the RV with his crossbow and several new arrows, but he seemed to be favoring an 870 Wingmaster over his bow. "Glenn, go tell the others. We're gonna need Jimmy's help if Hershel'll let him. Anyone else who's got a gun, knows how t'use it and wants to try, let 'em come. While we wait for the walkers t'get here, everyone grab somethin' t'hit with. We've got so many damn crowbars and bats…"

"Why not go out there and take the walkers out rather than wait for them to come to us?" asked Andrea.

"'Cuz Shane's out there, genius," said Daryl, testing out the swinging power of two metal bats. "Y'wanna get in his firin' range or y'wanna wait for the walkers t'come to us?"

"Either way it sounds like a shit deal," Andrea mumbled.

Presently Glenn returned with Hershel and Jimmy and immediately Daryl gave everyone a look that warned them to not speak of Shane. As expected, Hershel inquired about Shane, but Dale fibbed, "He's gone, left this morning. We've got bigger problems to deal with just now."

"There's dozens of walkers comin' onto your land right now," said Daryl, speaking directly to Hershel so that the old man would have no doubt on the gravity of the situation. "They're gonna try'n eat you if you don't fight back. I know you think there's a chance t'cure 'em, but there's too many t'even try'n capture just one. They'd overwhelm you 'fore y'even got a chance to loop that dog leash've yours 'round one's neck. Y'gotta put 'em down or people're gonna get killed, y'unnerstand? Can y'do that?"

"You're asking me to kill innocent people?" said Hershel quietly, looking at Daryl as if he thought he was quite insane.

"Yeah, that's right, I'm _askin_' you, not tellin' you," said Daryl and there was sincerity in his voice. "I ain't gonna force you to. You can either fight with us or go back in the house and keep the doors locked, but I can't have you tryin' t'interfere. It's one or the other, so what's it gonna be?"

Hershel licked sweat off the corner of his mouth and bending over, took hold of a crowbar.

Daryl nodded appreciatively. He handed off another bat to Dale and a crowbar to Andrea, lowering his voice. "Now y'all stick close, y'hear? Shane could be watchin' right now, waitin' t'run in and shoot up the camp. Keep y'eyes peeled and watch my back. Do that and I'll make sure nothin' happens t'you two."

"Why all the concern for just us?" asked Dale.

Daryl raised his eyebrows as if he thought the answer to be obvious. "Well, 'sides Hershel'n me, Shane wants your blood the most, Dale and since I know y'ain't gonna be leavin' Andrea's side, that means I gotta protect both've you."

"I thought you said that you weren't going to die for anyone?" asked Andrea, checking the bullets in her Ladysmith and Beretta.

"I did say that and I meant it, but just 'cuz I don't plan on dyin' for no one don't mean I can't watch their backs, right? Now, let's go." He set off towards the boundary fence with Rick and T-Dog where they would hold the perimeter.

Dale almost smiled at Andrea and said, "I think that's as sentimental as we're going to get from him," before the two jogged on to catch up with the fighters.


	7. Chapter 7: The End of Humanity

Their defensive line was eight strong with seven men and one woman. Lori and Carl remained by the RV with Maggie as a fallback point and they were armed with easier-handled weapons than what the fighters were equipped with. There was about ten feet between themselves and the fence behind them. Dale dabbed at his forehead with his over jacket and ran his fingers over his bat.

"Easy there, Dale, don't get no itchy trigger finger. Just keep calm," Daryl instructed. "You'll be fine s'long as y'keep a cool head. I seen ya fight walkers b'fore and that was in the dark, so don't worry 'bout it."

"It's not the walkers I'm worried about," said Dale anxiously.

"Most likely we'll see Shane coming before we hear him," said Rick. "Stealth's never been one of Shane's strong points."

"But ferocity is," T-Dog pointed out, rubbing his tender spot precariously. "Dumb bastard…"

"Look sharp, people, here we go," said Daryl, resting the bat on his shoulder as he prepared to swing. "Yeah, c'mon, c'mon you fuckers…"

Dale reached out and grasped Andrea's wrist. "Andrea, please be careful," he whispered.

"That goes for you too," she told him.

Daryl struck first and did a double tap on the first walker. The undead walked in no intended formation, but rather swarmed in on Daryl. Dale couldn't count how many there were, but it was at least double the amount of walkers in the barn. He and Andrea came in on Daryl's left with Jimmy and T-Dog while the others took Daryl's right. The sound of skulls caving in rose to a din so that Dale cringed with every thwack of his bat. He kept in close to Andrea, but far enough away that he wouldn't get clipped by her crowbar. Besides Hershel, Dale was the slowest fighter, but unlike Hershel, he had fought walkers before and knew how fierce he had to be to put them down. As the walkers continued to pour in, Rick began to drift farther and farther away from the main group and Dale was reminded forcibly of Jim who had gone off on his own to fight and ended up getting bit as a result of having no one to watch his back.

"Rick, get back here!" he hollered. T-Dog glanced over his shoulder and started to shuffle back towards Rick. They had all but cleared out the walkers when Dale heard Lori and Carl scream from the RV. As one the eight of them spun around and saw more walkers attacking.

"Make your way back there; I'll hold 'em off!" shouted Daryl.

Dale and Andrea sprinted towards the RV, bloody bludgeoning weapons as well as projectiles ready. Andrea put down two walkers with direct head shots as Lori took an axe and swung at another, keeping Carl behind her. Dale rushed over to where Maggie was struggling in a one-on-one with a big male walker and he clubbed it over the head with his bat several times before he finally managed to bring it down.

"Get back to the house, hurry!" he told her. Figuring that he would have a better vantage point on top of the RV, he clambered up the ladder and unloaded on the walkers coming in. No sooner had he emptied his rifle that he saw that Andrea and Hershel were being closed in on. He scrambled back down the ladder and just as he touched the last rung he lost his footing and landed on his side. As he looked up he stared down the barrel of a sawed off shotgun, a Mossberg 590.

Shane had his shotgun pointed directly at Dale's face, standing ready to shoot him down. He had a mad glint in his eye and the corners of his mouth twitched with a wicked sneer. "I gotcha now," he said just barely audibly.

Dale saw that his pistol had fallen out of his belt when he dropped, but he felt the knife still tucked away and in a flash he had seized it by the handle and swiped it out at Shane, catching the tip on Shane's kneecap. He tackled Shane around the legs and the two went down in the dirt. Dale knew he was no match for Shane's insane viciousness, but he tried. He struck out with his fists several times, catching Shane in vulnerable areas, but Shane rapped him across the face and then pressed it into the dirt so that Dale tasted grit. He felt Shane's hands on his throat and tried to swallow, but Shane had him tight and wouldn't let go. Finally, when he saw his own reflection turning red, purple, and blue in Shane's eyes, he kneed Shane hard in the groin so that his opponent gave a soprano squeal and rolled sideways. Dale coughed, panting for breath as he lay there, but he quickly turned over and stood up…too late.

When Shane had landed back in the dirt, he had fallen on his pistol and before Dale had time to react, the pistol went off. Dale screeched and collapsed as he felt the bullet pass through his thigh.

"Dale, no!" he heard Andrea shriek from above. The sounds of scuffle reached his ears and when he looked up, he saw with a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach that Shane had trapped Andrea in a headlock and was trying to back up towards the pickup with her struggling in his arms.

"No…"

"Shane, you done it now, leggo've her or by God, I'll put you down right here'n now!" shouted Daryl as he came to a halt beside Dale with his crossbow ready and pointed at Shane.

"Back off, Daryl, or I swear, I'll shoot her brains out, I ain't playin'," said Shane, digging his pistol into Andrea's temple. She had her hands on Shane's arm, gasping for breath as he cut off her wind pipe from supplying oxygen to her brain. "Drop it now!"

Daryl looked to Dale who was holding his hands over his thigh where blood gushed out between his fingertips. He nodded once to Daryl who dropped his crossbow and held out his hands to show his surrender to Shane's demands.

The knife Shane had at Andrea's throat was drawing a small line of blood and she gave a sharp exhale.

"Let go of her, Shane, you're going to hurt her," said Dale quietly.

"Naw, see, she's my ticket out of here. As long as I have her I can go without someone gunnin' me down. If I don't have a hostage, I don't get out."

"Then why'd you come back in the first place?" asked Daryl, nervously digging his toe into the dirt like a bull getting ready for a charge.

"You can't take her, Shane, she's not strong enough-," said Dale pleadingly.

"Sure I can, she don't mind. She didn't mind me bein' rough when I banged her neither."

"Fucking let her go, Shane!" Dale sobbed, ashamed as hot tears ran free from his eyes, from both physical and emotional pain. "Take me; I can't run away and I can't fight back. That's why you came back, isn't it? Not to take her, but to kill me? Well, I'm giving you the chance, just let her go."

"Dale, don't-," Andrea choked before Shane cut her off.

Dale could tell that the idea certainly looked appealing to Shane and to the surprise of all Shane threw Andrea down out of the way and in unison Glenn slammed his rifle down on Shane's head. At the same time Daryl moved in and pistol whipped him before tucking it back in his belt and going for his knife. Looking dazed, Shane pointed his own pistol at Andrea.

It happened in slow motion, like time had wound down so that everyone was moving through molasses except it had the fear carved into it that came in nightmares when you were being chased by a faceless enemy but going nowhere as it loomed in on you. Dale came to his feet, raced over to Andrea and spun her around so that his back was facing Shane and he was shielding her with his body. Glenn tried to wrestle the gun away from Shane, but the latter was the big dog, the pit-bull facing the Chihuahua and he gave a hard yank on the gun, wrenching it free. Daryl packed in one well-aimed punch and then the gun went off. Daryl staggered backwards, clasping his hands over the wound in his stomach. A fountain of blood exited his mouth and Dale flung his arms out to catch him. Pressing his hands down over the wound, Dale applied as much pressure as he dared as Andrea stood screaming beside him. Daryl's face screwed up in pain and he gagged on his own blood as he began to hyperventilate..

"Hold on, son, just keep still."

Daryl's mouth tried to form words, but the blood continued to pour out and he couldn't make out anything distinguishable. His eyes had already misted over, half hidden behind a veil as they sought out something that wasn't there to see for the living. When his irises found Dale, his fingers touched Dale's forehead, leaving a bloody handprint.

"Merle…" he whispered with a small, genuine smile.

Dale saw the color leave his face, saw his quivering eyes suddenly stop, and saw the last breath cling to his lips for a moment before passing out of existence. Raising his bloodied hands before him, Dale screamed for all the world to hear. He clapped his hands over his face, howling and thrashing about in pain. Something struck him across his shoulder blades and he arched his back in agony, flopping face-down on the ground right in the small pool of blood from Daryl's wound. A foot kicked him over and he saw Shane standing over him with his pistol, his scarlet-stained knife, and his boot resting on Dale's thigh. He pressed down and Daryl gave a cry of pain.

"How you like me now, old man? You brought this on yourself, sound familiar? When you gonna get it in your thick skull that I'm the only chance you got to survive?"

"Then I'm fucked," Dale spat, "because you're doing a shit job trying to help me stay alive."

"I never wanted this, Dale. I _never_ wanted this. I'm sorry it's come down to this, but you done it to yourself."

Suddenly he threw his arms up as a bullet wound opened in his side and his blood rained down on Dale. Spinning around, Shane faced his attacker and Dale saw that Andrea was pointing her Beretta at Shane, but her hands were shaking so badly that she couldn't aim properly. Her normal pinpoint accuracy was terminated. Shane gave Andrea a confused look as he held his pistol loosely in his hand.

Dale splayed his fingers out as he reached for the revolver in Daryl's belt. His fingers closed around the hammer and he gave a sharp tug to pull the weapon free. At the same time Shane raised his arm, aiming at Andrea. Dale pulled the hammer back and heard the click that signified a loaded weapon. Shane's keen ears picked up on the sound and he looked straight down at Dale who lay at his feet. His wild eyes widened to their full extent, but there was a calm acceptance on his face.

Dale fired, but the bullet seemed to take forever to pass through Shane's head and when it did, he toppled over across Dale's bad leg and lay still. Crying out, Dale felt fresh tears coming on as he shouted, "I'm sorry, Shane, I'm so sorry!" He had no time to grieve, for he saw three walkers closing in around him and he fired once, twice, and then heard the empty sound of the hammer clicking without giving off a report. His bladder almost let go as he lay paralyzed with terror. He couldn't move, couldn't do a damn thing to protect himself; his pistol was empty, he had lost his rifle when Shane shot him, lost his knife when he and Shane had struggled, and lost his bat out in the tall grass. The last walker made to clamp down on Dale's wrist and Dale fought it, striking out with his liver-spotted hand repeatedly before Andrea shot the walker point blank in the head and it fell on top of Shane, adding to the weight on Dale's injured leg. She dropped to her knees beside Dale and helped him crawl out from under Shane and the walker, patting him all over to check for more wounds or bites. When he had freed himself, he pushed himself up onto his good knee and pulled her in to his chest, holding her tightly as she clutched at his shirt, sobbing bitterly.

"I'm here, Andrea," he said quietly as he kept his arms around her. "Don't worry about anything, now, I'm here."

"W-where's Glenn?" she hiccupped.

"Knocked out cold from the fight with Shane," said Dale, looking over to where Glenn had fallen.

"Daryl…" Andrea whispered, trying to turn around to where Daryl was, but Dale put his hand over her eyes and drew her in close again.

"Don't look."

"Dear God, Daryl…"

"I know, I know, but he's gone, Andrea," said Dale, feeling his throat constrict as emotion built up in his throat. Hot tears brimmed in the corners of his eyes and as they ran free onto the top of Andrea's head, all he could do was hold onto her tighter.


	8. Chapter 8: Echo

Neither of them moved for what seemed like ages. Andrea's sobs slowly subsided but she still wept for Daryl, for Shane, and for being alive. Dale rubbed his hand over her back, resting his cheek against the top of her tender blonde head. His own tears had stopped, but he felt cold, hollow, and completely spent. What had Daryl said? What had he said with such conviction and authority?

_ "I ain't dyin' for nobody."_

Dale stared down at Daryl's body, replaying his last heroic act over and over in his head. Not only had he died for someone other than himself, he had died for two people. He had willingly stepped in to confront Shane and defend Dale and Andrea and lost his life in the process, which might have been what he was looking for all along. After Carol's death there had been an empty, almost dead-like quality to Daryl's eyes and Dale suspected that a portion of Daryl had been dying a little bit at a time because he had no one left and he couldn't continue living feeling so abandoned. His survivor instinct had denied him the ability to bite the proverbial bullet, but his innermost feelings told him that he was ready to give up, which he hadn't actually done. He had gotten his wish without completely giving in to hopelessness, but rather going out fighting in a fashion that his brother Merle would have been proud of.

Andrea finally let go of Dale and crawled to Daryl, closing his eyes by tenderly pulling his eyelids down. She began to dab at the blood around his mouth with her shirt, dripping tears onto his flushed-out complexion. Watching her, Dale's eyes eventually strayed to Shane near his feet.

In the end, he knew Shane had repented. The human had been present in Shane's last moments rather than the surviving and prevailing monster, but it hadn't been enough to save him. He had crossed the line time and again and there was nothing Dale could have done differently. Dale had murdered a human being—or had he? He could hardly call Shane's temperament human, but he definitely wasn't a walker. Copying Andrea, Dale reached over, closed Shane's eyes, and began to wipe the blood off of his temple.

Soon Rick and Hershel came to them with walker blood splattering their clothes. Rick saw Shane's body and sank down right where he stood, rocking himself back and forth but without tears. His grief was well beyond that. Hershel meanwhile took one look at Daryl and bowed his head before squatting next to Glenn to try and revive him.

"Wh-what happened?" asked Rick.

"Well, what's it look like?" asked Dale, trying and failing to stand up. "Shane shot me, stabbed me and killed Daryl. And I killed Shane. That's all." He clutched his thigh, grimacing as he hobbled onto his good leg and stood hunched over, dripping blood all over the place. "I didn't want to, I never wanted to, but he-,"

"You don't have to explain why, Dale," said Andrea kindly as she grasped his forearm.. "It's done now, it's over."

"No," said Dale insistently, "that boy—that man got killed because of me! Daryl, he—Andrea, he wasn't supposed to…" Dale's vision blurred and he felt his legs give out, but Andrea was there to catch him and she lowered him to the ground. He last saw her concerned face peering down at him before his eyes slid out of focus and he drifted into unconsciousness

%%%

When he came to he was lying on his stomach in his bed in the RV. Someone had deliberately placed him this way so that his back wound could be taken care of and sure enough, when he reached to feel for the injury, his fingers touched bandages. Very slowly he pushed himself up and swung his good leg off of the bed. There was a makeshift cane leaning against his bedside table which he promptly grabbed and used to support himself. Outside the window he could see smoke rising high up into the evening air from the pile of burning walkers. A little ways off he saw the group including those of the Greene household carrying two bodies towards dug out graves near the lone tree at the far left side of the property. He took off at as fast of a hobble as he could manage with his gimp and aching back, but in no time he had come upon the gravesite where the survivors were gathered and prepared to cover the holes as they stood fiddling with their spades.

Rick and T-Dog lowered Shane's body which had already been wrapped in a white bed sheet into one of the holes. Andrea was making the final touches on closing Daryl's sheet so that only his face was visible at this point. As she made to cover it up, Dale stopped her.

"No, wait."

He lowered himself shakily to one knee near Daryl's head, now free of blood and clean—probably cleaner than it had ever been in his entire life. Dale bent forward and kissed Daryl's colorless forehead ever so swiftly and patted his hair, pulling a few loose strands out of the way. He let Andrea cover Daryl's face and then set his walking stick aside. As she tried to lift Daryl's legs, Dale took his upper body and the two caught each other's eye. This was how they had buried Amy.

With fresh tears running down both of their faces, they backed up to the grave, Dale leaning on his good leg. Andrea dropped down into the hole and set Daryl's legs down before coming around to take his upper body from Dale. When she had lain him down properly, she gave him one last pat on his chest and Dale offered out his hand to her to help her climb out. Taking a shovel from Hershel, Dale fixed his eyes on the holes.

"They died heroes," said Rick, "don't anybody doubt that."

"Maybe 'heroes' isn't the word," said Dale thoughtfully, wondering what Daryl would have thought of being called a hero. "I think we can settle for saying that they died as men. In today's world, that's the best praise anyone can give." With that he took the first shovelful of dirt and tossed down onto Daryl. Andrea and T-Dog were the first to join him and after Daryl's grave was filled, everyone moved on to Shane's, patting the dirt down neatly. Carl took great pains to center the gravestones that had been roughly hewed to read a few words for each of them. Maybe it was the smoke, some of which had drifted over to where they stood as they stared down at the remains of their friends, or maybe it was just the pain overreacting, but Dale eventually tore his gaze away from Daryl's headstone because he had a funny prickling on the back of his neck. It could have been his overworked imagination or just his hopes toying with his mind, but he saw a very pale, very transparent figure standing off near the boundary fence with its hands in its pockets and a half grin on its face.

Daryl.

It could have been a ghost, or some sort of echo, but Dale sensed that he was the only one who could see it. Daryl's figure nodded briefly and then vanished.

Dale and Andrea were the last to leave the gravesite, standing with hands folded in front of them. The silence was nearly unbearable, but Andrea broke it with a loud sniffle. "Do you think Hershel will let us stay?"

"Yes," said Dale confidently. "He doesn't know what Shane did and he doesn't need to. There were walkers all over the place and for all he knows, Shane could have just snuck back and picked up a gun. We kept out word; his peace wasn't disturbed."

"No, only ours," said Andrea softly.

Dale looked sideways at her. "It wasn't your fault. Don't you do this to me again. Damn it, Andrea, I just got you back and I'm not going to lose you because Daryl Dixon chose to protect us. This was what he wanted and there's nothing you can do to change that. We can't be selfish, especially since so many people choose to die. Once you're dead, the worry, the loneliness, and the fear are over and that's all Daryl wanted. But since you and I can't have that, we'll have to make do with each other until it's our time too. I'm not giving up yet and I won't let you either, not while this old fart's got some fight left in him."

With perfectly bad timing his leg gave a jolt and Dale put his weight against Andrea who wrapped a secure arm around his waist to hold him up. "You okay?" she asked.

"Oh, yeah, I'll be fine, but perhaps I should rephrase that last bit and say that I'll have some fight in me in a few days."

"Dale, with your age, you're lucky to be alive."

"I think we're all lucky to be alive. But then again, we've all got strong wills and someone who's worth sticking around for, right?"

Andrea gave a very small, but very true smile. "Yeah…"

Dale kissed the top of her head and revolving slowly on the spot, they turned and walked back towards the campfire.

**I think I might have broken a few hearts there, but I think tugging on people's heartstrings is what makes a great story and I hope this is one of them. Not a happy ending, but not a completely tragic one either; just good enough for Dale. Of course, if the loss of Daryl was extremely hard on you, I would suggest checking out my other fics entitled "What to Live For", "Make Every Day Count", "Final Hour", and the newest edition which I have only just started, "Living in a Shadow". I hope you found this story entertaining and would appreciate any feedback you might have. Also, if you have the time, I suggest taking a look at Nickelback's song "Lullaby" because I was listening to it and I think it really described Dale and Andrea's relationship. I won't type out the lyrics here because honestly, does anyone EVER read them? Naw, didn't think so. As always, I wish you a pleasant day and happy writing!**


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